


Lost Things

by eyeslikestars19



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 14:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeslikestars19/pseuds/eyeslikestars19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby is watching the boys while John is away, so of course he takes them to the playground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Things

                “Thanks Bobby for watching the kids,” declared John as he shut the trunk of the impala.  “I should only be gone for a day, this shifter shouldn’t take long.”

“Leave the kids to me.  See you tomorrow,” Bobby said as he walked back into his home, lightly noticing the rumble of the ’67 Chevy leave his compound.

When he walked in he saw Dean making sure Sam finished all of the fruit on his plate, even passing some of his over to his younger brother.  “You’ll grow up big and strong,” Bobby over heard the older of the two commenting to the younger, whose cheeks were like chipmunks stored with food.  Once the young boys finished their breakfast, chugging down their tall glasses of milk, did Bobby grab their dishes and place them in the sink with the other day old dishes.  He then turned back to the kids who were staring up at him.

“Let’s go to the playground,” he stated before walking out of the kitchen.  The two boys cheered behind him as they fumbled to climb down from their chairs and raced to the door.

Bobby walked sluggishly to the garage, little footsteps tried to keep up with even his slow pace.  As the three approached the elder’s old, rusty truck, Dean grabbed a hold of Sam’s hand.  Bobby stepped up into his truck and reached across the seat to the little hand that was trying to grasp at the seat as his brother tried to help push him up.  He heaved Sam into the seat beside him and placed his keys in the ignition as Sam helped Dean clambered up into the seat next to him.  Dean reached around Sammy and grabbed one end of the seat belt, locking it into his side of it and tightened it.  Bobby then pulled out of the garage and onto the main street.

“Do you have the baseball and gloves, Uncle Bobby?” asked Dean as he looked into the glove box in front of them for them.

“They’re in the back, along with a soccer ball for Sammy,” commented Bobby, quickly glancing down at the ten year old before looking back to the road.

“But Sammy can play catch, because he’s a big kid now.”

“If he’s a ‘big kid,’ what does that make you?”

“An adult.”

Bobby let out a raspy chuckle then turned towards Dean who had a stern look on his chubby face.  More laughter bubbled up in Bobby, but he contained himself.  Sam looked between his uncle and big brother wondering what they were talking about, his mind was concentrated on far more important things like the idea of the swings and slide.

“He may be a ‘big kid,’ but I don’t think he’s ready for baseball.  Don’t you want to keep him safe?  And safe is kicking the soccer ball around,” Bobby said with a slight smirk, knowing Dean would give in at that point.

“Fine,” Dean answered, trying to keep the morose tone from his voice.  If it was for Sammy he’d kick around the stupid soccer ball instead.

The truck pulled into the park’s parking lot, and before Bobby could take the key out of the car the two boys were running towards the swings.  Bobby sighed and grabbed the soccer ball from the back seat, then slammed the door behind him.  He found a seat on one of the benches that was between the field and the playground, away from the moms.  Dean stood behind Sam, who was pumping his legs as hard as he could, but only was moving because of the pushing he was receiving from his big brother.

“Higher!” Sammy squealed between fits of laughter which caused Dean to push more of his body weight, of what little he had, into the next few pushes.

When Sammy thought himself high enough he jumped off.  This caused Dean’s eyes to widen and rush over to his younger brother to look him over and make sure he was okay.  Bobby watched Sam push his brother’s hands away from checking him over before grabbing his big brother’s hand and racing off to the slide.  Bobby subtly noticed that Dean made sure to go down the slide first then make sure Sammy landed safely.  He chuckled as he watched the two run around the playground, trying out each obstacle.  Their giggles reaching his ears.  This was probably the first carefree moment of just being their age in a few months.

“Hey Uncle Bobby, can we have the soccer ball now?” Sammy inquired as he pulled on the elder’s flannel shirt.  Bobby handed him the ball then watched as the six year old dashed to his big brother who had saved them a spot in the field.

Little legs kicked the ball back and forth, every few minutes one would have to chase after the renegade ball.  Bobby took a deep breath as a light breeze danced across his whiskered face.  A thud followed by a squeak caught his attention as he opened his apparently closed eyes to see Sam had tripped over the soccer ball.  He stood ready to help, only to see Dean run to his brother’s aid.  Brown hair tousled with grass, knees skid green, and face red, but sitting there with a wide grin on his face as his brother checked him over.  Soon, narrowed green eyes and puffed out cheeks turned to Bobby’s direction.

“I told you we should have played baseball!  Sammy wouldn’t have fallen if we did!” Dean yelled.

Sammy soon got up and the boys were off playing once again.  Bobby sat there laughing at the two the rest of the morning into afternoon as they ran around.  By the time they were in his truck once again both were conked out, Dean’s head resting on top of Sammy’s.  Bobby looked down at the two with a fond smile.  Even though they weren’t his own, he definitely thought of them as his own.

 

Bobby opened his eyes as he heard a voice calling his name.  He looked up at the figure standing in the door way of his cell.  An older Sam, older than the one he just saw behind his eyelids, stood there smiling, before his eyes turned black.  Bobby knew it wasn’t his Sam that was standing in front of him.  It was another demon trying to trick him from where he sat in his corner of hell.  The thoughts that kept him from giving up were the thoughts of those days where he would take his boys to the park, where Sammy eventually learned baseball.  And of them even in their late 20s, early 30s stretched out on his sofa and floor asleep.  They would never know that these were the moments that kept him human.  Kept him alive.  Nor would they know that in the back seat of his beat up truck, under the seats, was the soccer ball and baseball gear which he kept there as his good luck charm.  They weren’t there with him, but the thought of them kept him at peace that he would see them again, the little troublemakers that they were.


End file.
